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I wrote on 28 of the 30 days, missing only two days while traveling for Thanksgiving. I will make up for them by continuing to write for at least the first 2 days of December. It’s still my most consistent showing yet in the four years I have attempted NaNoWriMo. My final word count was roughly 13,016 words, covering just over 80 handwritten pages. My goal was never 50k words; it was to write first drafts for final 6 chapters of Dream Crasher. I completed 2 chapters and did a detailed outline of a third.

It was refreshing to be fully immersed in story again, and not distracted by raising money, digital edits, selling books, shipping books, and social media. I learned a lot of unexpected things about my characters. I was really worried about parts of these chapters coming out contrived. I spent as much time meditating on the story as I did putting words to the page. I always do some form of this, but consistently writing helped me focus on the problem points. As I figured out the characters and what motivates them, I found ways through my plot without it feeling contrived.

It takes me roughly 2 weeks to complete a first draft of a chapter. This will make it easier to budget time in the coming year to continue writing the final 4 chapters. This metric might also help me dedicate some more time to short stories and other scripts I have wanted to work on. Typically I read during my subway commute to and from work. During NaNoWriMo, I read on the morning commute in and wrote on the way home. The advantage is I write a lot more; the disadvantage is I read a lot less. Writing on the subway can be tricky and it will only work for writing first drafts, so I don’t think it will or should become my new normal. However, if I dedicate myself to doing this in 2 week spurts for first drafts, this method works really well.

This was good for me creatively. I feel reinvigorated. I feel less like a salesman and more like a writer again. I still have to be both but I can’t have one without the other. We’re releasing Chapter 3 this month (it’s been pretty much done but the release was delayed). I’m tabling at Winter Con in Queens this weekend. Chapter 4 is underway for a Spring 2017 release. Chapter 6 is undergoing its first script edits. Reed and I just spoke for an hour last night plotting out conventions in the coming year and how Stealing Fire Comics can be our vehicle for resistance in Drumpf’s America. I’m feeling really good about where I’m at even though I’m scared for society as whole.

When Blair died unexpectedly in the summer of that same year, it goes without saying that I was devastated. I wrote at the time that I was someplace between comfortably numb and feeling everything. As my therapist put it, I was barely keeping my head above water. Every metaphorical barrier I had ever built around myself was the equivalent of rubble. I felt small and soft, vulnerable and terrified. I was alone in a city of eight million people; an alien among old friends.

A few months later, while in the thick of my depression, my friend TJ posted on Facebook that he needed to find a new home for his dog. He had decided he was too financially unstable to take care of an aging dog, and the original adoption plans had fallen through at the last minute. I had known Coeus since he was a puppy. I was in a place where I was financially stable, but otherwise not so much.

It was one of the shortest deliberations I’ve ever spent on a major decision. I remember my parents telling me I shouldn’t do it. It was too big of a responsibility to take on after everything I had just been through. I didn’t tell them that I had already made my decision until it was too late to be talked out of it. I was certain of very few things at that point in my life, but I knew this was something I needed to do.

There was a moment I remember being on the phone with my friend Aricka, and someone walked by with their dog. The dog was carrying a giant stick, and it couldn’t have been prouder of the discarded tree limb it had found on the sidewalk. When few things are able to shake depression, the ones that make you smile really stand out. I think that’s what locked it in.

After a few months of planning and finding a new apartment, it was finally time to pick Coeus up. It was a Saturday evening in December. I braved driving through Manhattan for the first time in my life to get from Brooklyn to New Jersey. A mutual friend had driven down from Upstate with the dog in tow, and left him with another friend outside of Jersey City.

Coy was smaller than I remembered him being. It had only been six months since I’d seen him last, but at forty five pounds, he’s a little guy compared to the dogs I grew up with. We met in a stranger’s kitchen, took a brief walk around the suburb, and drove back to Brooklyn

We were both incredibly awkward during our first few days. We were in a strange new place where we only knew each other, and we were trying to adjust to a new normal. The next few weeks were filled with learning experiences. For example, white sheets and dog do not mix. Stuffed toys and tennis balls have an average lifespan of a few minutes. To this day I always cross the street when I see other dogs because, as wonderful as he is with people, Coy can be a total asshole to other dogs.

Before I knew it, I was time to drive upstate for Christmas. My family and I decided it would be too much for our 13-year old lab, Tucker, to handle having a comparatively young pup around the house. So I was leaving Coeus with my friend Sean for the holiday.

It was after Sean’s mother made us dinner, and I was preparing to leave, that I had an epiphany. Seeing how casually Sean interacted with Coeus and his own dog, pulling him in and scratching his belly, I realized that I had forgotten how to do that. Somewhere in the mix of my grief, and the turmoil of things happening more rapidly than I could process, I had lost the simple means of sharing a dog’s affection. I let that sink in.

When I picked Coy up at the end of the weekend, I made a conscious effort to relearn what it was to have a companion. To reopen those parts of myself that I had subconsciously closed off.

Over the years that followed, Coeus managed to become one of the singular driving forces in my recovery. The lull of a long depression is tedious, but it can be made bearable when you’ve got a companion to cuddle up with on cold mornings. And there is no better cure for a shitty day than coming home to a wagging tail and uncontainable joy. Even with all of the anxiety and bullshit the world periodically sends my way, Coeus has an uncanny ability to make me smile in spite of it.

[An earlier version of the story was posted on my Tumblr in December 2013]

If you’re don’t regularly back up your hard drive, let me tell you a story about an inconvenience that could have been a nightmare. My laptop hard drive was approaching 5 years old. I knew it had been getting funky and making strange sounds every now and again. It decided to completely shit the bed exactly one month before our June 2nd deadline for releasing Dream Crasher. Fortunately, I religiously backup everything with Time Machine, and that goes double for the comic book. Every page is additionally backed up in two different places. One can never back the important things up in too many places.

What you see in the picture above is my sisters old macbook that she set up for me with Adobe CS3 (for doing the final page edits) and my PC from work (for uploading/downloading the files for lettering). It took me twice as long to do everything as it would have on my own computer, but it didn’t stop me from doing what I needed to. What would have been a fun long weekend trip home turned into a lot of time spent at my makeshift desk on the dining room table.

Reed and I made the decision to hire a letterer rather than attempt it ourselves. This was excellent advice that came to me via the Comixology Submit panel at NYCC. We posted an add on Digital Webbing, filtered through several responses before we found Frank Cvetkovic. Here’s one thing Reed and I learned about ourselves through the process of selecting fonts: neither of us ever really notices lettering unless it’s abstract or poorly done. Much of the best comic book lettering doesn’t call attention to itself. It finds it’s own place in the narrative. It directs the readers eye around the page and works in cohesion with the artwork. Frank did a beautiful job and I could not be happier with our decision.

Through the process of finding a letterer we also found Greg Sorkin to do our logo. He was incredibly patient with our initial indecisiveness, but I’m ultimately very happy with the end result. My sister also came through for us in the eleventh hour, doing the cover graphics, internal credit and thank you pages, and the post cards we’ve been handing out for the last four months.

The last weekend of May brought us some gorgeous weather. It was the first true weekend of summer. I spent the entire time indoors working on the website. Minus some initial trouble with the download links, it all went off without a hitch on game day. It took us five years from the first sketches to the release of Chapter 1. There were many times along the way where it felt like it might never happen. Reed and I have trudged forward in the face of some major setbacks. We still have a long ways to go, but I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to take this journey with.

We will be launching our Kickstarter in late October. That’s less than one month away. We will be using it to print Chapter 1 as well as fund the lettering through Chapter 3. It will also be the first place you can order Chapter 2: The Land Vomits Ghosts. I’ve been exceptionally lazy in the last two months, making up for going all out on this. It’s time to come out of hibernation, though. I’m proud of myself. I’m proud of Reed. I’m proud of how the first chapter of Dream Crasher turned out. I’m excited and mildly terrified for what comes next, but I know I am fully capable of making it happen.

I had originally made plans to get there bright and early before the start of the convention to help set up. However, due to my not being an “official” vendor and the fact that I was still exhausted from the previous weekend at Special Edition NYC, I opted to sleep in a little bit. I got to the convention a little bit after noon. Dream Crasher won’t be printed until (hopefully) sometime in early 2016, so paying for a table when all I have are post cards and one print prototype wasn’t something I had initially planned on. However, fellow BSF Writer Donna Minkowitz offered me a split portion of her table with Roberta Degnore, and I couldn’t refuse. And so this became my first experience tabling at a convention. They’ve already expanded Flame Con into a 2-day event for next year, and I will be better prepared to make it count.

I took some time walking the floor a little bit, running into a few of the people I had seen the week before at Special Edition NYC. Steve Orlando was there again, as were the Wayward Raven crew. I love the bizarre mix of drag and Cosplay that the convention inspired. I met Eric Cooper and picked up an issue of Knightseeker, and I also bought Power – the official Flame Con anthology. Goal for next year – be an official vendor and get something submitted into this anthology. Let’s see how I do.

Toward the end of the show I met David Rondinelli, and spoke with him quite extensively. picked up a stand alone issue of Node from him (which I quite enjoyed reading). At the very end of it all, I bought a copy of Donna’s book Growing up Golem. I do regret that I couldn’t make it to any of the panels. I’m realizing how hard that is to do when you have a table and a job to do. This time around I had no merchandise to sell. Next year I will. It was a good experience to get that perspective for the first time.

When the floor closed, I went out for some dinner with Brad (and a charged my phone). It was also nice to relax away from the crowds. We then walked back for the drag show and after party. I didn’t know what to expect from the show, but I can assure you that I would never have guessed it would involve a Nevele Longbottom striptease. That turned out to just be the beginning. What followed was equal parts wonderful and weird.

Storm walking out to Garbage’s “Only Happy When it Rains.” Princess Leia in the gold bikini Jabba the Hutt made her wear, to the tune of Britney Spears “Slave for You” (and then ripping off her wig to Britney’s “Crazy”). She Hulk. Lana from Archer. Sigorny Weaver’s character from Aliens. Geek and Drag make for some strange bedfellows, and we all know that life is more fun with strange bedfellows.

After the show I went to TNT with my friend Matt, who introduced me to Nathan Archer. More drag shenanigans ensued. Eventually my friend Terrance met up with us, too. I stayed out much later than anticipated. Thankfully I had Sunday to recover from the inevitable hangover and several weeks worth of accumulated sleep depravity.

Reed and I stayed up well passed midnight on Friday, cutting paper and using rubber cement to piece together our two prototype prints of Dream Crasher: Chapter 1. We listened to lots of Maria Bamford and Against Me! as we powered through it. It was labor intensive but absolutely worth it. The same can be said about the whole last five years we’ve been working on this.

Saturday

With our binders and postcards in tow, Reed and I met up with Jaime at 51st street around noon, then walked over to Pier 94 for the convention. We made a quick pass on artist alley before checking out Let’s Talk About Checks: The Business of Professional Comics, which was moderated by Alex de Campi (Writer). Also on the panel were Joseph Illidge (Editor and Writer) and Vera Greentea (Writer and Jedi Master of Kickstarter Campaigns) among others. Some of the takeaways for me: having an agent isn’t all it’s cracked up to be – you can always hire a lawyer for reviewing individual contracts. Editors and Publishers are not the same thing and shouldn’t be treated as such – the Editor isn’t the one you want to write a scathing letter to when things go awry. In fact, it’s best to avoid scathing personal email rants altogether. Lastly, it is important to pay the artists for the work they’ve done. Not that I didn’t know that one, but it’s one that’s worth repeating. I particularly appreciated Vera Greentea’s story about cutting her page count down so she could afford to allocate more of her budget toward pay her artists.

Next up was Writers Unite: Pitching Creator-Owned Comics featuring Charles Soule, Greg Pak, Marguerite Bennett and moderated by Jim Zub. There was some truly valuable tips and examples on how to pitch an idea. As a naturally long winded writer, this is something I know I need to work on. Marguerite Bennett sold me on her entire catalog of work with the example she gave (forgive my butchered paraphrasing): a “psycho-sexual fantasy” where “a nightmare falls in love with it’s dreamer.” There emphasis placed on the need to show that you can make consistent, professional quality work before anyone will pay you for it. Lastly, the host Jim Zub summed up a sentiment that really seemed to dominate my entire weekend: “most people don’t appreciate where there at.” It’s not about jumping to the top rung of the ladder. People in comics tend to move up and through it together. It’s about knowing your contemporaries, learning from and growing with them. Thinking about where I was just last year, with not even a title to show for four years worth of work Reed and I had put in, I have come along way. We have come a long way. We’re nowhere near finished but I can appreciate the progress and remind myself to enjoy the process.

This was all the perfect segue into the last event of the evening: Creator Connection hosted by Buddy Scalera and Dirk Manning. I’ve learned a lot about effective networking over the years, and I really like the way this event is set up. In rapid fire speed dating style, I exchanged business cards and conversations with some really talented people. Right off the bat I got placed with Stan Chu, who has a really solid portfolio of some truly beautiful artwork. I also met Steve Pertivelli, who’s first comic Sweetie should be out later this year. At the tail end of the event I met Anna Leue, who had just finished the first issue of her webcomic Half Man (you can support it on Patreon). As the floor closed up, the Creator Connection moved to the Brew House a few blocks away for the after hours event setup by Stan, Steve, and J. Jacob Barker. Reed and I went along for a drink and some fries. I met a few more people, including James B. Emmett who just put out the first issue of his comic The Committee with Wayward Raven.

Reed and I ducked out of there a little early to grab some dinner with Jaime, which was followed by some celebratory ice cream at Sixteen Handles in Chelsea. It was near midnight by the time I got home, and not all that surprising that I overslept on Sunday morning.

Sunday

After I overslept (and Reed kindly let me sleep in) we got to the upper west side and had wonderful lunch with Anna, her husband, and Half Man artist Patrick Tsao.My friend Alex also stopped by to take over Jaime’s Sunday pass. I found out that Anna and I would be crossing paths again in July at ReaderCon, and we talked a lot about process, business hurtles, and comic book finances. Fun stuff if you’re into that. We parted ways when we got back to Pier 94. I opted to not go to any of the Sunday panels, having already had a late start, and made a more decided to more thoroughly walk Artist Alley.

After that I ran into Stan, from Saturday’s Creator Connection. He very graciously introduced me to a number of the other artists and writers he knew, including Soo Lee. If I had any more wall space/money to spare at that point in the day, I would have bought one of her beautiful prints. Instead I opted to spend my last $5 and picked up Fight Like a Girl #1, which Soo had drawn with writer/creator David Pickney. When my love for Power Rangers came up in the conversation, Stan quickly ushered me over to to meet writer Brian Visaggio and artist Kevin Roberts. They were unfortunately sold out of Stronghold Volume 1, but I still have every intention of getting myself a copy in the near future. I had exceeded my budget for the weekend, anyhow. Before the convention store closed, Stan gave me a copy of Carl D. Smith‘s Be Careful What You Wish For #1 – which features the short “The Courier” that Stan had done the art for.

All in all, one of the reasons it has taken me so long to write this is that WordPress deleted my first draft. The other reason is that I immediately followed this weekend with Flame Con, and then went to Reader Con with the Brooklyn Speculative Fiction Writers a few weeks after that. It has been a wonderful, stressful, important, and inspiring two months. I have met and stayed connected with some truly talented individuals who are making some beautiful comic books. I needed to take some time to myself after it all (3 conventions in 6 weeks) to process everything, recalibrate, and remind myself that I’ve come along way and should appreciate where I’m at.

One of the more important things I learned from this weekend – always take off the Monday after a convention if you can swing it. I wish I had thought to do that.

My sister and I went to catch a matinee of The Deathly Hollows – Part II. As we left the theater, I noticed that you hadn’t called or texted me back. I had grown accustomed to your daily text “Good Morning, Punk,” or some variation. This was when I first realized that something was out of place. I went home and continued packing, loading boxes into every open square inch of my car. I kept calling, but there was still no answer. Concerned about becoming that psychotic significant other that we all have stories about, I tried to keep my cool.

Five o’clock rolled around, and the time stamp on your last text told me it had been 24 hours since I last heard anything. You had said you weren’t feeling well, that you were going to bed early. I could no longer ignore the knot forming in my stomach. I called George, to see if anyone knew anything about where you were. The long distance relationship had always worked well for us, but Detroit had never felt so far away. George hadn’t heard anything, said he would see what he could find out and call me back.

I took Tucker for a final walk down the street, too distracted to appreciate the moment. I contemplated staying until I knew you were OK. I decided that they would be. Said goodbye to my family, not telling anyone about my growing panic. I played your music and poetry on shuffle the entire ride down, hoping to channel some good energy. I suppose I also just needed to hear your voice.

When Matt called and told me that you weren’t in your apartment, I knew that something was definitely wrong. My anxiety was validated. My appetite disappeared; it wouldn’t return for almost a week. As I neared the Manhattan skyline, the ipod radio adaptor began to lose it’s signal. Your voice became drowned out by static. This is the first time I remember crying.

Somehow I unloaded my car. Drenched in sweat in a stuffy upstairs bedroom, I was finally left alone with nothing but my thoughts. I reached out to Sierra. She called me back immediately. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to believe that things were going to be OK. That you would finally call and I would yell at you for scaring the shit out of me. That we would laugh about my overreaction to you losing your cell phone. That there had to be some kind of logical explanation.

This was my first night in Brooklyn. I don’t think I slept. I just tossed and perspired and stayed glued to my phone. At some point late the next morning, Matt called me again. In a choked voice that I could never forget, he told me “Blair’s dead.” My worst fear was realized in a single moment. I felt the ground fall out from beneath me. My whole body shrank and was swallowed by grief.

Within hours I was surrounded by the love of some amazing friends. Sierra called everyone we knew to make sure I wasn’t by myself. Naomi and Lindsay stayed with me for the next two days. My facebook wall and phone blew up with condolences and sympathy. I could name more names but I would take up several paragraphs and ultimately forget someone important. My memory in the wake of it all is bit of a blurry anyhow. My point is that all of those emails and phone calls and hugs helped to remind me that – in spite of how helpless and shocked and terrified and alone I felt – I was loved. At a time when there can be no true comfort, that’s all that there is.

It’s been a month, but I am finally getting around to chronicling my day at East Coast Comicon. In my defense, I’ve had a lot going on behind the scenes with getting my own comic ready for release on June 2nd. The first five pages are up now on Circus Book. Regardless of good excuses, I will be posting here more frequently in the next couple of months.

April 11, 2015

I ended up getting to the convention center a bit later than anticipated, but all in all it turned out to be a great day. I met up my friend Mel at the door – his father Rudy Nebres was a featured guest at the convention. He showed me around and introduced me to several people. The convention floor was much bigger than I was expecting.

I had a great conversation with David Gallagher, writer of The Only Living Boy along with Artist Steve Ellis. He recommended I check out Tapastic and NoiseTrade Books when I release Dream Crasher. I picked up Issues 2 and 3 of Only Living Boy – I had actually had Issue 1 from NYCC a few years back. It’s a really well-written series with some excellent artwork and a fully realized world. I highly recommend it, and look forward to the release of Issue 4.

I also stopped by the Wayward Raven booth, where I met Writers Mark Frankel and Alexander Sapountzis. Really nice guys with quite an impressive enterprise going. I picked up the first two Issues of their ongoing series, Horsemen. I also met Ramon Gil and picked up the first issue of his Scifies series, for which Rudy Nebres did the cover. Haven’t had a chance to read it yet, but like his concept for doing multiple serial shorts.

Finally, after backing Papa and Neneti of the Forgotten Spiritson Kickstarter over the years, I finally met Vera Greentea. She has been one of the most responsive and well-organized crowdfunding campaigners I have had the privilege of backing. I picked up the first issue of Recipes for the Dead. She’s worked with a variety of artists across these different projects, and has brought some beautiful dark fantasy to life.

It was a great day overall. Mel’s parents were really wonderful and let me keep my backpack at their table for the duration of the day. I left with it filled to the brink, with more comics than I have had time to read in the last month. I somehow managed to stay under budget. My hope is to return next year as a vendor, with printed copies of Dream Crasher in tow.